janestarz | Welcome back, asshole

Our flight landed half an hour late and the plane needed to taxi back to the terminal - taking another fifteen minutes. By the time we finally arrived at the meeting point it was a little past two in the morning.
The meeting point on Schiphol airport is a grey board, no larger than the average corporate whiteboard, and has in small letters above it "meeting point". No large signs or anything. Luckily the soldier with the large uzi was happy to point us in that direction.

When we arrived there, there was no taxi driver waiting for us (a service we had actually paid extra for), and I turned on my cellphone only to find I had been called six times.
I handed the cell to NoKey, who called the driver. The man actually had the audacity to complain we had not been answering the phone.

Yeah. Dude? We're in a bleeding airplane. Get a bloody clue.

He asked us to meet him at Departure hall 3, which was a brisk 10 minute walk away from the arrivals hall we were at, and there we loaded up. The driver said he had left at two for his next fare. Only when we passed Den Haag did I realize that his planning left a lot to be desired. Even if our luggage retrieval went swiftly, it would mean we would have been at the meeting point at 1.30 at the utmost earliest. It's a 45 minute drive home, so no way this man could have made his next fare (at 2 am) in time.

Home at 3.15 am, in bed by 3.30 with the promise of lots of mail in the box below.
Too bad they're doing some renovation on the apartment building behind ours and those guys start at 7.35 sharp. Still, I slept until 10 and got a ride from Luc to O'kerk and quickly picked up the cats.

Lisa is having some serious abandonment issues, trying to sneak into the bedroom and meowing and scratching at the door when she's not allowed inside. But she fell asleep in my lap after dinner, which is rather unusual for her but very, very cute.
It's good to be home.